Fallout
by denise1
Summary: Sam faces the fallout of the Trust's mission


Fallout

By

Denise

The missile streaked through the gate and Sam closed her eyes, frustrated by the helplessness of her situation. She knew what was going to happen, she'd seen it before. They would all die. Slowly. Painfully. Just like they had on Revanna.

She could still see them sometimes. She remembered picking her way through the bodies, not wanting to look, but having to – it was the only way to avoid tripping over a stray arm or leg and ending up sprawled over a corpse.

She tried not to look at their faces, but sometimes she hadn't been able to avoid it.

Most of them had died afraid. She'd seen the fear still on their waxy faces. They must have thought their god had deserted them. Or struck them down in anger. Maybe they feared they were doomed to hell. Did Jaffa believe in hell? She'd have to ask Teal'c. Presuming she ever saw him again.

Not all of the Jaffa on Revanna had been dead. Amazingly enough, among that killing field, they'd found a few still clinging to life. They hadn't been able to do anything of course. They were all dying. It just took some longer than others.

It would be different with this poison though. It was better refined and more efficient. And it also had an aerosol delivery. This would kill many, many more.

And it wouldn't just kill warriors.

Hoskins and Jennings were attacking Goa'uld home worlds. Places like Chulak. Planets, not only occupied by warriors, but by women and children. They were killing children, murdering them simply because they had the misfortune of being born Jaffa, their only crime the one thing they couldn't change.

The wormhole snapped shut and she felt sick, knowing that she's just witnessed the deaths of an untold number of Jaffa.

"Next target is P5R357."

Sam's heart lurched at the designation. No. Not there.

_"And what is the name of this place?" Ishta asked, walking beside Sam as they explored a potential new home for the Haktyl refugees._

_Teal'c had been hesitant about Ishta visiting the planet, using security to cover his real reason. Presuming, of course, that he even admitted to himself how worried he was about her._

_Two UAV's were flying overhead, both doing long range surveys. The plan was, if Ishta found the planet acceptable, to have one of the rebel Jaffa bring a teltac and do an in depth scan before bringing all the refugees here._

_"We really don't give them names," Sam apologized. Ishta frowned. "We use a series of numbers and letters. It's based on the binary code that the computer uses to pinpoint the exact place in space. We call it a designation."_

_"Then what is the designation of this planet?"_

_"P5R357."_

"I wouldn't bother," Sam said, praying that her voice was as even as she wanted it to be. She couldn't ask them to stop. They wouldn't listen. She knew that. "Ba'al abandoned that planet six months ago when the naqahdah mine ran dry." She scrambled for the first plausible explanation.

"She's lying," Jennings dismissed.

"Go ahead. Waste another rocket. That's one less planet  you can destroy." She shrugged as well as she could with her bound hands.

"She does have more up to date intelligence," Hoskins said.

"She's bluffing," Jennings insisted.

Sam dismissed him, knowing that he was far too fanatical to be swayed. Anyway, she didn't need to convince him. He was just a stooge. Hoskins was the CO. Hoskins was who she needed to convince.

"You can make this a lot less painful if you help us select optimum targets," Hoskins said, walking towards her.

"What are you talking about?"

"You know as much about the current tactical and strategic positions of the different system lords as anyone on earth," he said, his tone calm and reasonable, almost complimentary.

"I don't know as much as you think," Sam said, realizing too late that she had fallen into his trap.

"You know enough to help us get maximum effect with minimum collateral damage," he said. "You're the one that wants to save innocent lives."

It would be easy. So easy. How many of Ba'al's worlds could they attack? How many human lives could be saved if they eliminated battalions of Jaffa at once?

Yeah, right. Murder Jaffa. When people did this on Earth, they were called terrorists. "Nice try," she said.

"So? Are we going for P5R357 or not?" Jennings asked.

Hoskins was quiet and Sam held her breath, afraid of what he'd say. She stared at the far wall, resisting the temptation to look back at them.

She knew if she looked, they'd see. They'd read it in her eyes, know that it was important to her. See that she'd rather send the missile careening through the Alkash than have it strike Ishta's new home.

"Go to the next one on the list," Hoskins said.

Sam hid her reaction, afraid that they'd see and change their minds. They had to think that it didn't matter.

One planet was safe. Now how in the hell was she going to keep them from attacking the next one?

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Sam sat in the cargo hold, content to simply be a passenger on the trip back to Earth. There really wasn't much to do, and besides, the last time she'd steered this ship, she'd ended up with her brains scrambled.

Daniel and Teal'c were sitting beside her, both seeming to share her desire to not let the gate out of their sight.

"I must report, Colonel Carter, that I witnessed the death of one of the Tok'ra," Teal'c said.

"Who?" Sam asked, unable to ignore the flutter in her chest. No. It couldn't have been him. It just—

"One named Zarin was undercover in Ba'al's ranks. She perished when the symbiote poison was released," he reported.

Sam nodded. "I'll be sure to—wait, how do you know?"

"I was there when she died."

"Teal'c?" Daniel asked. "How? I thought you were on P4S161?"

"I was on the planet designated P3S114."

"What were you doing there?" Sam asked, remembering the designation. That was one of Ba'al's worlds. Teal'c wasn't supposed to be there. He was supposed to be on the Alpha Site.

"Many Jaffa worlds have been attacked. I recognized the signs of the symbiote poison and believed the Tok'ra were responsible."

"You knew that they had an operative there," Daniel said.

"Yes."

"I'm sorry, Teal'c," Sam said, knowing that her words were an empty comfort.

Teal'c glanced at her and got up, leaving the cargo hold. Daniel frowned, making a face. "I'm sure he didn't—"

"Daniel, some of his friends have just been massacred. He's entitled to be in a bad mood," Sam said.

He shrugged and they fell silent for the rest of the short trip to Earth.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Jack sighed and scrawled his name, authorizing…something.  Whatever it was, it had to have been important, since it was in Walter's 'sign it, sir' stack.

Knuckles brushed against his door and he looked up, not surprised to see Carter standing there. "Carter?"

"Sir." She stepped into the room.

"Gate all fixed?"

"Yes, sir. We just did the last tests. Everything's up and running." She stopped in front of his desk, sitting when he motioned for her to do so.

"So, why are you still here?" he asked, glancing at his watch. It was 2138 and definitely time for both of them to be out of here.

"I was wondering. Colonel Reynolds said that he and Doctor Brightman are going to check out one of the planets tomorrow."

"Yeah," Jack answered, remembering the doctor's request. "Only one of them was outside of Ba'al's territories. The rest are too dangerous, but Brightman thought that there might be survivors."

"Theoretically, there should be. No biological compound is ever one hundred percent effective. And this poison is engineered to strike at symbiotes only, if there are any children on this planet, they should have been immune," she said, falling into her lecture tone.

Jack nodded. "That's what Brightman thought. Which is why I authorized the mission."

"Yeah. General, I'd like to go with them," she said.

"You just got back," he said. "And you've spent the last day getting the gate operational," he reminded.

"I know. General, Teal'c is visiting Ishta, and Daniel is taking the weekend off to spend it with Sarah. We're on downtime until Tuesday," she said.

"We, as in all THREE of you," he reminded.

"Sir, their mission is one day only. I'll come back tomorrow night and go home until Monday morning," she said.

Jack fiddled with his pen, seriously considering refusing her offer. In the past few months, she had started to slow down a bit, even taking a long weekend here and there, but he still knew that she was more than putting in enough hours. She'd also spent the last three days tracking down the missing gate and putting it back into place.

Then again, it wasn't all that often she asked him for something.

"Ok," he said. "You can go." She smiled, closing her mouth when he held up his hand. "It's Reynold's and Brightman's mission. You're just there," he warned.

"Yes, sir," she said, getting to her feet. "Thank  you."

"You do anything to cost me more paperwork and I'll--do something," he threatened.

"I'll be good, thank you, general," she said. She left the room and Jack turned his attention back to the pile of paper on his desk, unable to ignore the almost overwhelming desire to throw caution to the wind and hitch along himself.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Sam stepped out of the wormhole and took a deep breath, almost gagging at the foul stench in the air.

"Lovely," Colonel Reynold's complained as Bosco gagged.

"I presume this means we have the right place," Doctor Brightman said dryly, making a face.

"Unless we're cleaning up after more than one massacre," Reynold's said, looking to Sam. "Colonel, what would you say if I told you that you were on gate duty?" he asked.

Sam frowned, then shrugged. "If that's where you want me, sir," she said, resisting the urge to argue. The general had been very clear, this was Reynold's mission. Besides, she knew how it felt to be questioned.

"Psych," he muttered, making an amused face at her. "Bosco, it's gonna get worse before it gets better," he said, raising his voice. "You hang here with Kellerman. We'll go look at this village. Document the dead around the gate, then zat them," he instructed, following their protocol. None of them were wanting to desecrate the dead, but it had been agreed that they couldn't just leave whole planets of bodies lying around either. The decision had been made to take pictures of all the dead, in the hopes that they could be identified later, then use the zats to dispose of the corpses in the most efficient way possible. "Check in every hour," he instructed.

"Yes, sir," Bosco answered, stepping away.

Reynold's motioned for Sam, Brightman and Peterson to follow him. The quartet fell into step, Peterson falling back to the rear. They didn't chatter much as they walked, the combination of their lack of familiarity and the general air lent to them walking in relative silence.

The UAV had flown a survey of the planet, ascertaining that there had been a Jaffa presence on this planet. Unlike 114, this planet didn't have a garrison or palace, rather it looked to be some sort of generic Jaffa world, the only structures they'd seen was a village about two miles from the gate. And that was where they were heading, operating under the presumption that any survivors were likely to be there.

It was early summer on the planet and it was a lovely place. The trees were full and lush and they walked through thick green grass. Off in the distance, Sam could hear the occasional bird call. It was a lovely place, peaceful and relaxing.

It would have been perfect had it not been for the occasional whiff of a rotting corpse.

"You really think we're going to find survivors?" Reynolds asked.

"We should," Sam said.

"The research indicates that the toxin is only fatal to symbiotes, be they mature or immature. Teal'c was exposed to it with no ill effects. It stands to reason that any Jaffa who have not yet received their symbiote should be unaffected by the nerve gas," Brightman said.

"So we're talking about a bunch of kids aren't we?" Peterson asked.

"We should be," Sam said, turning to look at him. "Jaffa get their first primta about when they hit puberty."

"They're likely to be traumatized," Brightman said. "Chances are they witnessed every adult in the village fall over dead."

"And if we don't find any?" Peterson asked.

"We catalog, zat and go home," Reynolds declared. "Needless to say, nobody touches anything in this village. The last thing we need is to be taken for looters."

Sam nodded, her thoughts elsewhere. It seemed so wrong to do this, to cover it all up. It was almost like they were trying to erase all the evidence of what happened. She knew that cleaning up the bodies was the sanitary thing to do. And she was sure that Ba'al was doing the same on his worlds. But it still felt wrong to her.

"What are we going to do if we find some kids?" Peterson asked. "We can't exactly take them back to be adopted."

"Ishta will take them," Sam said.

"Teal'c's girlfriend?" Reynold's asked.

Sam nodded. "She's already got a lot of women and children in her camp."

"And they'll be safer there, in a relatively nurturing environment than with the other rebels," Brightman stated.

Sam looked to Reynolds and shrugged, not quite sure how to respond. Even though Brightman had been at the SGC for a few months how, Sam really hadn't had much to do with her. She'd had her normal pre and post mission physicals, but nothing else. There were times when Sam felt a niggling of guilt and thought that maybe she should find some way to make the doctor feel welcome. But something always seemed to come up.

"Village ho," Reynolds said. They stopped and Sam pulled out her binoculars, studying the small collection of buildings.

She couldn't see much movement, not of the Jaffa kind anyway. A few birds were flying about and she knew that they were this planet's equivalent of buzzards.

"We're going to do this one building at a time," Reynolds instructed, lowering his own binoculars. "Carter, you and Brightman hang back. No one goes anywhere alone and we're not going to do anything with the corpses until the scene is secure. I doubt they had time to put out any booby traps but watch yourselves. Even if these people aren't pissed at us, they're likely pissed in general."

They started walking towards the village, their pace slow and cautious. As they got closer, Sam could smell the death and hear the buzzing of insects.

It had only been forty-eight hours since the attack, but the weather was warm and Sam suspected that the biological agent might also be accelerating the decay of the bodies.

They reached the first house and Reynolds signaled to Sam, telling her to remain outside. She stood next to Brightman, her eyes scanning the area. The village was tiny, a rough collection of twenty houses with narrow packed dirt streets running between them.

The homes were all small, reminding Sam of Teal'c's home on Chulak. It was obvious these people had been surprised. A man lay in the street, an axe lying at his side. Another had a brace of dead birds clutched in his slack hand.

Reynolds came out of the house solemnly shaking his head. He held up three fingers, signaling the number of dead.

They slowly made their way through the village, only pausing for a few seconds when Bosco checked in before continuing in their grim task.

About halfway through, Sam and Peterson switched places, allowing him to stay outside while she checked the house with Reynolds. Now that she was inside, the surprise of the attack became more and more evident. Food was uneaten on tables, sometimes charred in the bottom of cooking pots, hanging over cold fires. Some women were sitting in their chairs, their mending on their laps.

The scenes were heartbreaking in their stark simplicity.

"This whole mission may be a bust," Reynolds said softly as they cleared yet another house. "If there were any survivors they could have already left."

"I didn't see a stepstool at the gate," Sam said, picking up a small piece of discarded clothing. "And I doubt whoever wore this could reach it on her own." She held up a toddler sized dress.

He shrugged. "Word spreads fast. We could be too late."

"Maybe," Sam agreed, getting to her feet. She followed the colonel outside, rejoining the others. Peterson and Brightman were peering around the corner of the house.

"What's going on?" Reynolds asked.

"I saw something," Brightman said. "There was a cat, then I know I saw a person."

"Peterson?"

"I didn't go look, sir. I was waiting for you," he said.

Reynolds sighed slightly, obviously torn between finishing his methodical search and pursuing the possible survivor. The faint wail of a baby drifted in on the breeze and Reynolds looked at them, his decision made. He motioned and they followed him, slowly making their way towards the cry. They walked to the back of one of the houses. There were a couple of small outbuildings and Reynolds pointed towards one of them. Brightman hung back and they approached it, Reynolds taking point and opening the door first.

He lowered his weapon, glancing back at the others. "We got four," he said.

Sam moved forward, hoping that they would find a female face a bit less frightening. "Hey." There were four children in the hut, two girls and a boy, all of whom looked to be about six or seven years old. One of the girls was holding the baby, vainly attempting to shush it. "We're not here to hurt you," she said, smiling.

They just stared, the oldest girl getting to her feet and standing in front of her friends. "We just want to help," Sam said, glancing back at the others.

"My name's Kevin, what's yours?" Peterson asked, moving close and kneeling down.

"My name is T'Lan, and you will do well to get away from our children." Sam heard a deep voice and she spun, instinctively raising her weapon at the sight of three adult Jaffa, all with their staff weapons armed and ready. "Lower your weapons," he said.

"You lower yours," Reynolds said.

"We're just here to help," Brightman said.

"We're from the Tau'ri--" Sam said.

"And that fact alone is enough for me to kill you," T'Lan interrupted. "Lower  your weapons or you shall die."

Sam looked to Reynolds, seeking his guidance. The odds were even, but she knew that the best they could hope for was a draw. With a sigh, Reynolds nodded, lowering his P-90. Sam and Peterson followed suit and they surrendered to the Jaffa.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Bosco paced, checking his watch for the fifth time. "Just call them," Kellerman said, rolling his eyes.

"It's not time yet," Bosco said.

"You're ten minutes early and he'll get over it."

"You think so?"

"I know so. Now call him before I do," Kellerman threatened.

Bosco sighed. "Since you insist." He reached for his radio. "Sierra gulf three three, calling Sierra gulf leader." He waited for a few seconds, stopping to look at Kellerman. . "Sierra gulf three three, calling Sierra gulf leader," he repeated. "Try yours," he said.

Kellerman keyed his radio and repeated the call, getting the same response. "We are early," he said.

"Doesn't matter," Bosco said. "The colonel never turns off his radio, especially in enemy territory. Something's wrong," he declared, striding to the DHD.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm calling for help."

"They're not even overdue  yet," Kellerman said.

"Something's wrong," Bosco insisted, punching the glyphs.

"And if it's not? If you call in the Calvary for a dead battery?"

"Then the colonel's gonna look pretty damn stupid for not checking it," Bosco said.  "Look, I'll tell the SGC what's going on and see what the general wants us to do. If he says wait, we'll wait," he bargained.

Kellerman nodded as the gate opened. "Sierra gulf command, this is sierra gulf three, three. We got a little problem here."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Sam sat on the floor, her fingers idly drumming on her up drawn knee. All four of them were in one of the houses, one that had been mercifully cleared of corpses. They'd been treated decently if a bit abruptly.

Disarmed and led into the house. They were told to stay put, an order they had no problem with following.

"We could take them," Peterson said, eyeing the two Jaffa guarding the door

"I think there's been enough killing," Reynolds muttered.

"What will they do with us?" Brightman asked, her voice shaking just a bit. She was a little pale, a few strands of her dark hair hanging around her face.

Sam shrugged. "Depends on their mood."

"Colonel?"

"If they wanted us dead, we would be already. Chances are they'll either let us go, or turn us over to a goa'uld," Sam said.

"I thought we had a treaty with the Jaffa?" Peterson said.

"Some Jaffa," Sam clarified. "And our treaty also included not using the toxin unless it was in defense of Earth."

"WE didn't do it," Reynolds said, accentuating the word.

"It doesn't matter to them. What matters is that a Tau'ri did it. What matters is that the missiles were launched through our stargate. They won't care about the details. All they'll care about is that several hundred thousand of their friends on a half dozen worlds were murdered. Let's just hope that they don't take

'Jaffa revenge' as seriously as Teal'c does," Sam said morosely.

"How do they even know it was us? The Tok'ra made the stuff first," Reynolds said.

"The toxin was made with the cooperation of the rebel Jaffa and the Tok'ra. And it was based on the original Tok'ra serum," Brightman said.

"Right," Sam agreed. "Both groups know that we have it. It's not a far stretch to think that someone shot their mouths off."

"So we just wait?" Peterson asked.

Reynolds looked at his watch. "Bosco should have checked in half an hour ago. If he's following protocol, he's called the SGC and reported our status. If O'Neill is following protocol, he'll tell them to wait an hour, call back and ask for reinforcements for a search." He shrugged and leaned back against the wall. "The only real question is whether or not he waits until dawn."

"Or  if Bosco and Kellerman—"

"They even think about leaving the gate, I'm gonna have their guts for garters," Reynolds interrupted. "We wait," he declared. "If we have to, we'll fight our way out. But let's see what the general does first."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

T'Lan looked across the way and through the open doorway, watching the humans as they waited. He did not know what to think of them. They were armed, yes, but they had surrendered those arms peacefully, if a bit reluctantly. And, even though they had searched the village, none of them had desecrated the dead or attempted to loot.

Of course, he had heard that the world of the Tau'ri was a magical place. Perhaps they had little need for the simple belongings of a simple people.

"The one female, I am certain she is Major Carter," K'Mar said, joining T'Lan.

The children were sitting in the middle of the street, calmly eating the rations K'Mar had given them. All except for the infant. She was fussing weakly. According to Maryn, the child's mother was among the dead.

And since none of the children possessed the knowledge or ability to collect a bovine's lactation, T'Lan knew if he and his brothers had not returned from their hunt two days early, the infant would be dead.

As it was, they needed to take her to another planet and find a nursing woman to care for her.

"We did not ask their names," T'Lan said.

"How many Tau'ri women are fair of hair and stink of the goa'uld?" K'Mar asked. "We should offer her to our lord Ba'al. His reward would be great."

T'Lan sighed. K'Mar was young, only on his fourth primta, and had much to learn. Yes, Ba'al's reward for the Tau'ri woman would be great, however it would likely be an empty reward. Ba'al had suffered great losses at the hands of Anubis and his forces were stretched thin. There were also multiple skirmishes between him and the other System Lords. T'Lan knew that Ba'al's reward for the capture of the Tau'ri would likely be a position within his own forces. A position that would probably lead K'Mar to a fight against another System Lord's stronger forces.

"Ba'al's rewards often benefit only himself," T'Lan said softly. "The humans say they are here to help."

"It is also said that the Tau'ri worked with the Tok'ra to create the poison that killed our kin," K'Mar said.

"This is true," T'Lan agreed. "However, if they wanted us dead, would we not be?"

K'Mar had no response and sighed, staring at the hut the humans were in.  The last of their kin, Abran, was guarding the Tau'ri, standing outside their open hut and preventing them from leaving. "What shall we do about the children?" T'Lan asked.

"They shall avenge their parents' deaths," K'Mar answered.

T'Lan sighed. "It would be best if they all were out of swaddling clothes," he said. "We need to discover what Abran wishes to do. One of the children is his niece." Abran was the only one of them that was a direct kin to the four children, and as such, would have a say in how they were cared for.

Normally, when a child's parents were killed, that child was fostered to one of its relatives, yet T'Lan knew that would not be possible in this instance. Many of Ba'al's worlds had been attacked with millions dead. Very few of their kin were still alive, and even fewer that were able to care for a helpless child.

T'Lan moved to the open door of their hut and motioned for Abran to join them. Even though the humans would be unguarded, T'Lan was not concerned that they would escape. They were disarmed and not even the magic of the Tau'ri could out-run a staff weapon blast.

"We are trying to decide the fate of the Tau'ri," T'Lan said as Abran joined them.

"The Tau'ri murdered our kin," Abran said, his voice bristling with anger.

"What?"

"I knew it!" K'Mar exclaimed.

"I heard them speaking. They worked with the Tok'ra and the Sholva to create the poison. The attack was even launched through the Tau'ri chaappai," he said.

T'Lan shook his head, feeling every one of his eighty eight  years. "Why? The Tau'ri have never attacked the Jaffa?"

"Thousands of our brothers have fallen," Abran said.

"In battle," T'Lan reminded. "Just as thousands of our brothers have fallen in battle since the creation of our race."

"You heard what Abran said. "They attacked us. They murdered your own simka. The Tau'ri have proven that they cannot be trusted," K'Mar ranted.

"The Tau'ri have never attacked us before," T'Lan said.

"They have killed—"

"They killed those that attacked them," T'Lan interrupted K'Mar. "I cannot fault them for doing what I have done myself." He sighed and moved towards the door. "I wish to speak to these Tau'ri myself," he declared.

He left the hut, his companions following him. They walked past the children. They were now playing in the center of the street, two of them throwing a small ball while the third minded the infant.

He saw the Tau'ri note his movement, the four of them getting to their feet. The older male, the one T'Lan had identified as their leader, moved to the front of the group, placing himself between his companions and the Jaffa. "Why are you keeping us here?" he asked.

"My name is T'Lan. Why have you come here?" T'Lan demanded.

"I'm Colonel Reynolds, this is Colonel Carter, Doctor Brightman and Peterson," the older man introduced.

"We came to help," the dark haired woman, Brightman, spoke up.

"We have had enough of your help," Abran said.

"T'Lan, we didn't do this," Colonel Carter insisted.

"That is not what Abran heard you say," K'Mar accused.

The Tau'ri looked to each other and the leader stepped back, letting Carter step forward. "T'Lan, yes, a Tau'ri did do this, but it wasn't us," she insisted.

"You expect us to believe—"

"I was there," she interrupted K'Mar. "We developed the poison, but it was only to be used in defense of Earth. They stole it, stole our stargate, hid it on a ship and used it to attack you. We stopped them."

"You did not stop them soon enough," T'Lan said.

"No," she agreed. "We didn't." She met his gaze, her expression sad and serious. He saw something he didn't expect, guilt and remorse.

"We should give them to Ba'al," Abran said.

"Now, wait just a minute—"

A high scream cut through the air and they turned. The oldest girl was crying, one hand cradling her other arm. "Kesah, what is wrong?" T'Lan called.

"It was a flying insect. It stung her," the boy said.

"Let me help her," the doctor said.

"No."

"I'm a doctor," she said.

"She's a healer," Carter said. "She can help the girl."

"You  have done enough," K'Mar said.

"Master!" The boy called out as the girl collapsed.

Abran hurried over to the children, gathering his niece up in his arms. "Her breath comes difficult," he called.

"What have you done?" K'Mar demanded, drawing and aiming his zatnikatel.

"The bee sting," Doctor Brightman said.

"Anaphylactic shock?" Sam asked. The doctor nodded. "Colonel?"

"Let them help the girl," Reynolds said, stepping forward.

"You have done enough," K'Mar growled.

"Colonel, we don't have much time," Brightman said urgently. Reynolds lunged forward, knocking the zat from K'Mar's hands as he tackled the Jaffa. Peterson followed his lead, taking T'Lan to the ground. Sam dove, snagging the discarded zat as Brightman ran.

Abran looked up, his arms tightening around the girl. "Leave her," he shouted as the other children looked on, their eyes wide. Brightman ran past them and into the hut where the Jaffa had put their belongings.

Sam aimed the zat at him.  Behind her she could hear the grunts and growls of a struggle and knew that she didn't have much time. Brightman returned, her hands digging in her bag. "Let her help," Sam ordered.

"No."

"She's going to die," the doctor yelled.

Sam moved closer, putting the zat against the Jaffa's head. "Let her help the girl," she ordered, knowing that only the fact that his hands were full was all that was keeping him from knocking her down.

Brightman pulled the epi-pen from her bag and removed the cap, quickly injecting the medicine into the girl. The child's eyes were closed and her breathing was harsh and gasping. "She'll be better in a minute," she said.

"If she is not, your life shall be forfeit." Sam heard the familiar snap hiss of a staff weapon arming and she looked down at Brightman, seeing confirmation in the woman's wide eyed stare. Surrendering, Sam raised her hands and disarmed the zat, letting K'Mar take it from her. "I should kill you now for attacking us," K'Mar threatened.

"Then you shall die as well."  Sam closed her eyes for a second, knowing that Teal'c wouldn't have come alone. She turned, stepping away from K'Mar and positioning herself close to Brightman. She could see Reynolds and Peterson both on their feet, looking slightly the worse for wear, but in one piece.

T'Lan stood beside them, warily studying the new arrivals. Teal'c was accompanied by SG-10, who all had their P-90's drawn and ready.

"Sholva," K'Mar growled, raising his zat.

"Teal'c," Sam greeted. "Nice to see you."

"Colonel Carter, Colonel Reynolds," he acknowledged. "General O'Neill was…cranky that you missed your appointed communication time. He contacted me and requested that I investigate."

"Give em stars and they get pissy," Reynolds said. He and Peterson moved closer as SG-10 fanned out, covering the three Jaffa.

"You betray your race," K'Mar accused, staring coldly at Teal'c.

"I am trying to save OUR race," Teal'c corrected. "Only by removing our dependence upon the goa'uld can we ever be free."

"You call this free?" T'Lan asked, motioning to the empty houses. "Our women and  children murdered in their sleep."

"It is better to die free than to live on their knees," Teal'c said. His voice was strong but Sam could tell that his heart wasn't quite in it. 'I die free' may be a rallying cry among the warriors, but Sam knew that such words meant little when innocents were among the fallen.

"I would rather they lived," T'Lan said simply, his words illustrating the stark reality of their situation.

"So would we," Reynolds said.

"Will you denounce Ba'al and join the rebellion?" Teal'c asked.

"We cannot renounce our god," K'Mar said.

"Ba'al is not a god," Teal'c argued. "He is a parasite possessing a human body."

"He is our leader and we promised him our lives," T'Lan said sincerely. Sam could see honor in the man. He was making his choice, not because of and delusions but because he'd made a pledge and was willing to honor it, even if it cost him his life.

"Can we at least do something about the children?" Doctor Brightman asked.

"You want to take our children?" Abran asked, getting to his feet, the girl still cradled in his arms. She was looking better and breathing easier now but was still clutching Abran tightly.

"I want to offer them a place to grow up that is safe," Teal'c said.

"Warriors aren't the only ones that have defected," Sam said. "We know a place where they'll be safe. They'll take care of them and raise them."

T'Lan slowly shook his head. "They are our kin."

"And who will care for them when Ba'al summons you to serve?" Teal'c asked.

T'Lan sighed and looked to his companions. "Where is this place?" he asked finally.

Sam opened her mouth, stopping when Teal'c interrupted. "You cannot know," he said.

"What?"

"You will take our kin from us?"

"The only way for this place to be safe is if no one knows where it is," Reynolds said.

"I give you my word, they will not be harmed," Teal'c promised.

"What worth is the word of a Sholva?" Abran sneered.

Teal'c stepped forward, coming within inches of the three Jaffa. "My father's name was Ronak. And I swear to you upon his memory that your children will be as safe as my own."

The three Jaffa shared looks again. "Your sister would wish for Kesah to be safe," T'Lan said.

Abran still hesitated, his arms tightening around the girl. "If we wanted to hurt her, we wouldn't have helped her," Brightman said.

"You will guard her?" Abran asked.

"With our lives," Sam promised.

The man sighed, lowering his head. He stepped away and spoke to the child, his words soft and intelligible. After a few minutes, he returned, handing the girl over to Brightman. The doctor took her, struggling a bit to settle Kesah on her hip. The other Jaffa motioned the remaining children forward, ushering them toward the humans.

Peterson and Reynolds both bent over, gently taking their hands while Sam took the infant. "Do they have anything we need to take?" she asked, frowning a bit when the baby didn't cry.

"Of what do you speak?" T'Lan asked.

"Do they have any toys, clothes they'd like to bring?" Reynolds asked, smiling at the young boy whose hand he was holding.

"You will allow this?" K'Mar asked.

"We'll take whatever you want us to," Brightman promised.

T'Lan nodded and the small group broke up, each escorting a child to their homes and retrieving a few precious toys or clothes. It only took a few minutes and they rendezvoused in the center of the street.

"It is not too late to join us," Teal'c offered as SG-10 helped SG-3 situate themselves, their returned gear and the children's possessions.

"I promised my lord my loyalty for life," T'Lan said. "I shall honor that."

Teal'c nodded. "Then I wish you fal tor kee." He turned, leading the way from the village and the rest followed, Kesah waving goodbye over Brightman's shoulder.

Sam waited until they were out of sight of the village before she picked up the pace, moving to walk at Teal'c's side. "Is Ishta able to take care of the baby or do we need to stop by Earth for some supplies," she asked, shifting the infant in her arms. The child was slightly fussy and, if the bit of cloth wrapped awkwardly around its bottom was any indication, needed not only a warm meal, but a bath and clean diapers.

"You will find, Colonel Carter, that the Jaffa require little from Earth," he said coldly, giving her a glance before he quickened his step, easily moving in front of her.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"And the baby?" Jack asked, glancing at the group gathered around the briefing room table. SG-3 and 10 had returned two hours previous, a little scuffed and dirty but, more or less, none the worse for wear.

"Ishta's confident that she can find a wet nurse," Reynolds said.

"We offered to bring the children here and check them over, but they refused," Brightman reported.

Jack shrugged. "Her choice. And it may be for the best, I think the quartermaster will have a stroke if I ask him for formula and diapers," he said, half under his breath. He leaned back in his chair. "Colonel Meyers, your next mission has been delayed by twenty-four hours," he told the CO of SG-10. "Reynolds, I don't think anything has changed for you." Jack got up, pushing himself away from the table. "If I'm wrong, I'm sure someone will let me know. Dismissed."

Jack made his way into his office, not surprised to see Carter following him instead of leaving like the rest. "Teal'c stayed with Ishta?"

"Yes, sir." She stood in front  of his desk while he took his seat.

"Makes sense," he shrugged. "Might as well finish his downtime." He looked up, shaking his head at the expression on her face. "You can't tell me you were surprised by what happened," he said. "You're smarter than that."

"We were just trying to help."

"Yeah, well, the Jaffa have been taking care of themselves for a long time. I'm sure they had somewhere safe to go."

"Where's safe?" she asked. "The Trust got away with at least a half dozen missiles and toxin. These Jaffa were loyal to Ba'al and the Trust was hitting Ba'al's worlds."

"That's what they get for being loyal to Ba'al," he dismissed.

"General—"

"Carter. How many Jaffa have you killed?" he asked.

"You know as well as I do that's different," she protested.

"Is it?" he asked.

"Yes. What the Trust did was cold blooded murder," she said, her voice raising.

"Say that again," he requested.

She frowned. "What?"

"What the Trust did," he repeated, accentuating the word. "They did it, not you." She quirked her lips and looked over his shoulder, her eyes settling on something on the upper shelves of the credenza. "You can't fix everything, Carter," he said softly. She shot him a sharp look. "Except when I tell you to," he said quickly.

She smiled slightly, her stance relaxing. "Go home," he instructed. "Enjoy your Sunday. Teal'c will be back tomorrow and you have a mission first thing Tuesday morning."

"Yes, sir," she said.

Jack watched her go and shook his head, sighing as he pulled out a stack of reports. He had definitely never given Hammond enough credit.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Teal'c walked down the ramp, not surprised to see O'Neill in the control room. His friend was taking his new responsibilities most seriously. Perhaps too seriously.

It was late at night and the base was quiet, something  Teal'c could sense even from just the gate room. A flash of movement caught his eyes and he looked up as O'Neill pointed up, indicating for Teal'c to join him in his office.

He climbed the stairs, propping his staff weapon just inside the office door. "Take a load off," O'Neill invited. Teal'c took a seat. "How's Ishta?"

"She is well."

O'Neill nodded. "And the kids?"

"They shall acclimate," he said, puzzled by O'Neill's small talk. It was a tactic the man usually employed when he desired to broach a topic in which he found discomfort.

He nodded. "You need to read this," he said, sliding a folder across the desk. Teal'c picked it up. "Did you know Carter talked them out of sending their missiles to a planet," he said. Teal'c opened the folder, scanning the  neatly typed words. The designation of the planet jumped out at him and he looked up, seeking O'Neill's confirmation.

"Their info wasn't as up to date as they thought. Or maybe they had a crappy source. Anyway, they thought that planet was an outpost of Ba'al's. Carter convinced them otherwise," he said.

"So they chose another target," Teal'c said, the memory of a field of bodies fresh in his brain. A thousand Jaffa that died in Ishta's people's place.

"Yeah, they did." He sighed. "Look, Teal'c. I'm sorry you lost your friends, but I'm not sorry Ba'al lost some of his army," he said.

"They were murdered."

"And if Apophis had gotten his hands on this stuff, what would he have done?" he asked pointedly.

"It does not—"

"It does," he interrupted. "I don't agree with what they did, but I can't say that I'm sorry," he repeated. "It's a few less Jaffa he'll have to throw at us when the time comes. And you know it's coming," he said seriously.

Teal'c closed the folder and laid it back down on the desk. "I agree. Ba'al will not ignore the Tau'ri for much longer," he said.

O'Neill nodded, picking up the folder and putting it on top of the file on his desk. "What happened sucked, I'll freely admit that. But maybe, instead of being pissed at the planets that were hit, you can be thankful for the ones that weren't."

"Perhaps," Teal'c said, getting to his feet. "And perhaps, when Ba'al attacks Earth, we shall see if you are grateful for the few survivors instead of mourning the murdered."

He turned on his heel and left the room, pausing only long enough to take his staff weapon to hand.

He walked down the corridor, for the first time in years feeling a chill that came not from the climate controlling machines, but from disillusion. From the knowledge that his adopted home was really no better than the home he'd forsaken nearly a decade before.

And that, while he may have been accepted by them, he would never be one of them.

Fin


End file.
